


Sonata for Two

by delta_altair



Series: Trusting Love - A Fair Game AU [4]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Almost Kiss, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, M/M, Past Alcoholism (brief mention), Piano, Qrow and Summer were best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24591361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delta_altair/pseuds/delta_altair
Summary: On the night of the Atlas Council Election, Qrow convinces Clover to take the night off with him. Clover surprises Qrow, and they discovered a shared passion together.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Trusting Love - A Fair Game AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719832
Comments: 25
Kudos: 96





	Sonata for Two

**Author's Note:**

> This work is in the same universe as the 'Trust Love' series I wrote for Fair Game Week 2020. It can be read as a standalone, but reading the 2nd work in that series ([A Series of Almost Dates](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190297)) will give you extra context for Qrow and Clover’s relationship in this fic! 
> 
> This work includes a musical playlist, which was a collaborative work! I will include credits and some notes about the playlists in the footnotes. Before you read, the most important thing to know is that the first four and last two songs in the playlists are the important ones described in this fic, and for the final song, the YouTube version is more “accurate” than the Spotify version. The first piece is played by Clover, then the next by Qrow, and it alternates until the end. 
> 
> [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ZHtZmuQQBlOa3pzvp6Pd0?si=KxaGXN1KQ-Sn5zrYoqJ6IQ)  
> [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRfjaRpz-5jlrjzVceBuRUs47bHt3IKWV)  
> And if you'd like to watch a rendition of the first song performed by alphaparrot, my good friend, you can see it [here!](https://aparrotandaqrow.tumblr.com/post/620290109277978625/mild-spoilers-for-delta-altairs-newest-fic)  
> 

Qrow strolled through the hallways of Atlas Academy, the afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows. He was making his way toward the training rooms. The kids had been training the whole morning, and he wanted to check in and see how they were progressing.

His train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he turned a corner and nearly walked straight into someone. Who the hell was- "Oh, James," Qrow muttered. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

General Ironwood waved his gloved hand and gave Qrow a small but genuine smile. "No worries, Qrow. How are you?"

"Alright," Qrow shifted his weight, putting his hands in his pockets. It had been so long since he had last seen James, before arriving in Atlas, and it was obvious the past year had been hard on the man. Qrow still wasn't sure where their friendship stood, and he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of awkwardness. "Going to see the kids. And you?"

"I'm just fine, thank you. I actually just left the training grounds. I'm giving the teams the remainder of the day off, no missions." His brow furrowed as he glanced away from Qrow. "Everything will change after the election tonight, and we need to be prepared for anything." He let out a sigh, but looked to Qrow with a cordial expression. "You should take some time off as well, Qrow. You had a long journey here, and you've done a lot to look after teams RWBY and JNOR.”

Qrow shrugged the compliment away. "No more than they have themselves. They're a strong bunch. But thanks, Jimmy. Wanted to explore Atlas a bit more anyway."

James smiled. "I hope you enjoy that. Have a good day, Qrow," he said, briefly resting his hand on Qrow's shoulder as he walked by. 

Qrow was about to continue on his way when a thought occurred to him. He turned around and, before James turned the corner, said, "Does that night off apply to all Atlas personnel?"

"Of course," James said, looking back at Qrow. "Including the special operatives. I just told Winter, and Clover informed the rest of the Ace Ops before w-"

"I meant you, Jimmy," Qrow interrupted. "When was the last time you took a break?" James' lips tightened slightly. "Or actually had a normal day’s work?" Now James was frowning. "I could tell the moment we got here that you've been running yourself straight into the ground."

"The people of Atlas need my leadership, Qrow." His tone was firm.

"Yeah, and what use is that gonna be if you keel over from exhaustion?" Qrow raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms. "Take your own advice, James."

Ironwood stared him down, gaze almost cold, but Qrow met it evenly. Eventually, he sighed, glanced down at the floor, then back up at him. "You...may be right, Qrow. I appreciate your concern, really. I'll try to...take it easier, today." 

Qrow sighed internally, but it was at least progress. "Alright, Jimmy. Have a good day." He gave a mock salute, which had James rolling his eyes but clearly suppressing a smile, before he turned around and continued toward the training rooms. 

The monochromatic grey walls eventually gave way to the sleek, dust-lit paneling of the training halls. He gave the status board a quick glance and saw that the largest room was still occupied. Following the sounds of chatter and laughter, he entered the main training room. 

At the back of the hall, Weiss was summoning her huge Queen Lancer, with Winter standing nearby and regarding the work with a detached but impressed expression. The rest of the room's occupants were clustered in the middle of a ring of boxy obstacles. Yang spotted his entrance first, and waved. "Hey Uncle Qrow!"

"Hey kids," he replied, smiling as he approached the group. "Heard you have the night off. Any plans?"

"Nothing yet," Blake said. "We might check in with the other Atlas teams."

"And I was going to see what Penny is doing!" Ruby exclaimed, bouncing from one foot to the other. 

Ren asked, "Are you taking the night off as well, Qrow?"

Before he could answer, Nora interjected, "He'd  _ better _ be! You deserve a break just as much as us!"

Qrow couldn't help breaking into a smile, holding up his hands in defence. "Ah don't worry, I am. I'll come up with something interesting to do."

"That  _ something _ had better not end up as a report on my desk tomorrow, Branwen." He glanced up to meet the Winter's icy gaze. The Schnee sisters had joined the rest of the group. 

He put on his best offended face and gasped, "You don't trust me, Ice Queen?"

"With your track record of getting into fights with Atlas personnel?" Her eyes narrowed. "No."

"Oh please, when have I  _ ever _ besmirched the righteous honour of the Atlesian military?" He glanced away from Winter to Ruby, on his right, and quickly rolled his eyes. Ruby clapped her hands to her mouth, very ineffectively concealing giggles.

Winter scoffed, glared at Qrow, and turned to leave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her place a hand on Weiss' shoulder, and the younger Schnee practically beamed up at her sister. Despite his snark, he was genuinely glad that Weiss had family to look up to. Winter was a good role model for her sister. But he wasn't going to stop ribbing her anytime soon. It was too funny.

Yang gave Blake a gentle nudge, and said, "I like the idea of seeing what the other teams are doing. We should get back to the dorms and figure out where we're going."

They all walked out of the training room together, the younger hunters brainstorming activities for the rest of the day. "Have fun kids," Qrow said, turning to the keypad beside the door. "Don't do anything I would do!" He smiled to himself at their receding laughter as he turned off the training equipment and deactivated the lights in the room. 

Assuming they were all gone, he started slightly when he heard a quiet voice behind him. "Uncle Qrow?"

Turning, he saw his younger niece looking up at him with a pensive expression. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Did you know that you've been smiling more, lately?"

Qrow blinked, taken aback. "I...guess it isn't something I really pay attention to. Have I?"

"Yup!" Ruby beamed. "And it's nice to see that. I know that the journey up here was...really hard. But I know you've been trying hard to do better, and you really have been, Uncle Qrow." She tilted her head, and he could have swore her eyes were nearly sparkling. "I'm glad you're happier."

He felt like his heart was about to burst. A part of him wondered how she could possibly be so kind to him, after his stupid negligence had nearly gotten her and her friends killed at the farm. But Ruby had always seen past the bad parts of people, even when she was little. And she was right, wasn't she? He was happier now. He swallowed past the lump in his throat before speaking. "Thanks, Ruby. You've got a real knack for people, you know? Your mom was like that too." Ruby's eyes widened slightly as he continued, "She'd be really proud of you."

His niece's smile somehow managed to brighten even more. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the hug, silently both thankful and in awe of the fact that he was able to be here for his nieces and their friends. They were going to change the world for the better, more than he could have, that was for sure.

Ruby bounced backwards onto her heels and gave him a short wave. "Thanks Uncle Qrow! I'll see you later." Her wave turned into an accusatory point. "And take the night off!!"

"I will! I promise," Qrow said, laughing. 

Apparently satisfied, Ruby nodded before speeding down the hallway in a burst of rose petals.

Qrow couldn't keep the smile off his face as he walked up the hallway, towards the exit of the training halls. He began to consider his options for the rest of the day. A scant few months ago he would have parked himself at the nearest halfway reputable bar, but now the mere thought of doing that turned his stomach. Maybe he could go for a flight? He hadn't been able to really stretch his wings in weeks, the frigid air and strong breeze around Atlas would provide a bit of a challenge, and he always had enjoyed the stunning snowy vistas around the city. 

He glanced up at the status board at the end of the hall, and paused. One training room was still occupied. He must have missed it earlier when he was looking for the kids. It was a small room at the end of the hall, and the name shining on the screen told him it had been signed out by one Clover Ebi.

Ruby's words echoed in his head, and he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to do for the rest of the day. He turned on his heel and marched back down the hall.

Qrow heard the muffled  _ thumps _ of fists impacting canvas as he approached the open door at the end of the hall. He quietly stepped inside. This room looked like the much more familiar training facilities at Beacon. Less dust tech, more old fashioned equipment, like the punching bag hanging from a low rafter in the middle of the room. Clover had his back to Qrow as he laid into the bag. He didn't carry any frustration or anger in his stance, just incredible focus. He had cloth wraps around his hands and wore his sleeveless grey top, his white AceOps vest and gloves lying on a nearby bench. Qrow couldn't bring himself to announce his presence just yet; he allowed himself a few moments just to watch and appreciate Clover's form. More and more lately, Qrow found himself pleasantly distracted by the work Clover put into his body, arms in particular. There was also something artistic about the man's precision and strength. Qrow witnessed it often enough in combat, and he could still see it here. It reminded him of the hours upon hours he had put into learning how to wield Harbinger effectively. It was a dedication Qrow admired. But, as he had just been told, you couldn’t work all the time.

When the operative paused for a breather, Qrow called out, "You have the night off, and you're training?"

Clover turned to look at him, teal eyes widened slightly, and Qrow's train of thought slid right out of his brain. Sweat clung to Clover's brow and neck, skin flushed. His breath coming in even but deep pants from exertion, and Qrow could only describe his hair as artfully disheveled, loose strands dangling in front of his eyes. At least until Clover raised a hand and slowly carded his fingers through the stands and tugged them back into place, keeping his eyes on Qrow the entire time.

Oh, that  _ wasn't fair _ . 

Clearly he had stayed quiet for far too long, as Clover's confused expression morphed smoothly to cockiness. One hand still in his hair and a sly grin growing on his face, he raised one eyebrow and asked in a soft but low tone, "You doing alright there, Qrow?"

Incredibly unfair. 

Qrow cleared his throat quickly and managed to avoid stuttering as he answered, "Uh, yeah, just fine. Sorry. But my question still stands."

"True." Clover moved to sit down on the bench with his vest and gloves, closer to Qrow, wiping some sweat from his brow while he walked. "Yes, I was training, as you were so carefully observing." 

He winked.

Qrow felt a blush crawl up his neck and knew he didn't have the alibi of exercising to excuse it. He soldiered on, however. "Let me rephrase.  _ Why _ are you here training when you have the night off?"

Clover shrugged, and began to unbind the wrappings from his hands. "It's what I usually do." 

"But this can't be the only thing," Qrow countered.

Clover grinned as he tugged his gloves on. "You're right, it's not. But I think I've just stuck to my usual routine, since having a night off has been pretty rare lately."

"All the more reason to do something more interesting."

Teal eyes flicked up to Qrow, and the corner of Clover's mouth twitched upwards. "Oh, but with all the staring, I thought you did find that interesting?" 

Qrow knew his face probably resembled a tomato at this point. He huffed and crossed his arms, but struggled to look serious and keep a smirk at bay.

"I'm sorry," Clover said, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing away. His playful grin emphasized the dimples on his cheeks, Qrow noticed. "I think I enjoy teasing you a bit too much. I can stop."

"No, don't worry about it. It's...flattering." Admitting that felt a little dangerous, but it also felt thrilling. And it was worth it to see the delight in Clover's expression. Biting down the lingering anxiety in his chest, Qrow spoke again. "I think this is my horribly round-a-bout way of asking if you'd like to do something tonight."

Clover's gaze shot up to Qrow's. His smile, impossibly, got brighter. "With you?" He sounded hopeful, and that realization made Qrow's heart do a little flip.

"Uh, yeah." He shifted his weight and uncrossed his arms, trying to look casual and definitely failing. "If you'd like that."

"I would," Clover affirmed. He picked up his AceOps vest and swung it over his shoulders as he asked, "Did you have any particular plans?"

"No, I haven't really been around Atlas in a while, and I'm not even sure what would be open on election night. Which is why I'd like to know what else you do to unwind."

Clover held Qrow's gaze for a long moment before standing and looking down to do up his vest. "There  _ is _ something, actually. But you might find it a little boring." 

"I doubt that," Qrow said easily. If this conversation had been any indication, he’d find doing anything with Clover exciting.

"Alright." Once he was finished buttoning his vest, Clover clasped his hands behind his back. Though he still held his back and shoulders straight, his posture was more relaxed than usual. He leaned in Qrow's direction. "I'll meet you at the Academy entrance in twenty?"

Qrow nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you then."

They split off at the entrance to the training halls, Clover heading towards the AceOps suite and Qrow back to his room, closer to where the kids were. His mind buzzed at the possibilities -- what would Clover do to unwind? While his public persona was easy enough to gauge, Qrow honestly found Clover a little hard to read at times. What would the man do in his free time? Qrow supposed it was a difficult thing to try and figure out for any full-time hunter. Free time was such a luxury. Was he a sports guy? Or more of an arts guy? Or both? Qrow hummed trying to remember some of the major destinations in the city. There were lots of fancy museums in Atlas, maybe that’s what Clover had planned. Or would it be something more quiet and personal?

He blinked, and realized he was already in his room, standing in front of his closet. Should he change? His brow furrowed, this wasn't a date, Clover hadn't implied that. 

Did  _ he _ want it to be a date? Qrow had already told Clover that he wanted to take things slowly, to wait until he had a better handle on his own issues. Because Clover deserved someone better than...

He could hear Clover's gentle chastisements at that thought, and sighed as it was chased out of his head. Qrow  _ wanted _ to get better, to be sure that he could be reliable and steady for the people who needed him. He wanted to be worthy of the trust Clover was clearly putting in him. This was the first time in a very long time that Qrow felt...wanted. Like he wanted to be wanted. He just didn't want to rush that.

Yeah, okay. That felt better. 

He deliberated for a few more moments before pulling the door of the closet open. A little style change couldn't hurt. 

Fifteen minutes later Qrow was leaning against one of the thick marble pillars that lined the entrance of Atlas Academy. A few students milled about the cavernous room as a patrol of mechs passed them by. The towering doors to the Academy were open, allowing a refreshing breeze into the hall. Through the door and between the towering silhouettes of the buildings surrounding the Academy, Qrow watched the sky fade from a rich blue to a deep violet. He fished his scroll out of his pocket to check both the time and election results. Hill was still ahead of Schnee by a mile. Ruby and her friends would be having a blast at Robyn's victory party soon enough. Qrow slipped his scroll back into the pocket of his black pants, which he hoped complimented the deep maroon dress shirt he wore. It was less complicated than his usual outfit, though he wondered if the shirt was too fancy for a not-date. Fiddling with the cuffs, he rolled the arms of the shirt up to his forearms. That was better. Maybe? He had briefly considered asking Weiss, as the heiress seemed to know a few things about fashion. But the last thing he needed was the rest of the kids getting wind that he was spending the night with Clover, and he didn't want to bother Weiss, given that the election might be particularly stressful for her. He probably looked good enough.

"Hey, you look great," came a voice from behind him. 

Oh.

Qrow turned, knowing his lips had upturned to a wry smile and deciding not to try and hide it. "Thanks." His eyes took Clover in, and he swallowed. "So do you."

What an understatement. Qrow was glad he had put the effort into changing. He'd never seen the operative in civilian clothes before. Clover's air of military posture was still there, but it was all wrapped up in a delightfully casual package. Dark brown leather boots, slim dark jeans, and what looked like a fitted t-shirt partially covered by a worn-looking but classy leather jacket, the same colour as his boots. The shirt was a deep, burnt orange that, combined with the hall lighting, was making the teal of Clover's eyes incredibly vibrant. Eyes which, as Qrow finally met the others man’s gaze, were narrowed in amusement.

There was no denying he had been staring. Allowing his grin to grow and lifting his eyebrows, Qrow let his gaze wander again. His eyes lingered on Clover’s broad chest and the gentle swell of his shoulders under the leather. “Better than great, actually,” he murmured, flicking his eyes back up to Clover’s face. 

Clover’s smile at that was an endearing mix of shy and cocky. “Thank you, Qrow. Ready to go?” 

“Absolutely.” He started to turn towards the open doors, but Clover tapped his shoulder and pointed towards one of the interior hallways leading deeper into the Academy.

"This way, actually." Clover set a casual pace, clearly not in a rush. He pushed his hands into his pockets and asked, “Any inkling of where we’re going?”

“Nope, but I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Qrow hummed and glanced up at the ceiling as he thought. His eyes traced the inlaid filigree of gold gliding through the deep blue stone. "Well, between the quaint coffee shops and the secret rooftops, nothing you've ever done with me has been anywhere near boring." He glanced down quickly enough to see Clover attempt to hide a quite frankly adorable smile behind his usual attentive demeanour. He smirked, then continued, "But to be honest, I also get the feeling that you're a bit guarded with your personal life. You have a crazy intense job that takes up a lot of time, and you're a very...deliberate person, so whatever you choose to do in your free time is probably important to you. And you're choosing to share it with me, even though it's making you a bit nervous. So it's clearly something you care about a lot. That's how I know I won't be bored."

He glanced at Clover. The other man looked a little in shock, eyes wide and lips parted. He shook his head and gave Qrow a smile of disbelief as he said, almost a whisper, "You're frighteningly good at reading people, Qrow."

"Comes with the territory. You know I'm a spy, right?" He grinned, linking his arms behind his neck.

"I do," Clover smiled and turned his gaze back down the hallway. "It was in the briefing notes. But that's not just being good at knowing if someone is hiding something. You're empathetic, Qrow. That's a wonderful quality to have."

A million excuses flooded his mind, but he simply took a deep breath in and out before responding, "Thanks, Clover."

They continued on in silence, Clover leading Qrow through a winding set of hallways, all while staying on the ground floor. They were very far from any part of the Academy Qrow was familiar with. While Qrow tried to figure out where Clover could be bringing him, the other man thumbed his scroll open to check on the election results. 

"Hill still leading?" Qrow asked.

"Schnee has gained a little, but yes," Clover confirmed. His shoulders seemed to lift and he held his head a little higher once he put his scroll away.

"Happy about that?" As Clover glanced over at him, he quickly added, "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Politics can be messy."

"No it's fine," Clover assured him. "And yeah, I am glad."

Qrow raised an eyebrow. "Even though she's going to make life hell for Jimmy?"

"That'll be tough for him, but he can handle it. And although I agree with the General's plan, we should never shy away from criticism. Robyn would bring incredibly valuable insight as a vital member of Mantle's political structure. The people there deserve representation from someone who cares about them. Besides," and Clover rolled his eyes, to Qrow’s amusement, "anyone is better than Schnee."

Qrow groaned, "Oh I'm with you there. I've never seen anyone more pretentious and elitist than that idiot." He let his arms fall down to his waist, rolling his shoulders along the way. "But I'm also glad to hear you say that. Jimmy's heart is in the right place, but I think he misses how the big ideas hurt the average people sometimes. Robyn'll set him straight. And sometimes he needs to be reminded that he can't hold the whole world up by himself. I'm glad he's got someone like you to help him." 

Clover gave him a warm smile as he came to a stop in front of a set of wooden doors. "I appreciate that Qrow." He slipped one hand into the intricate metal handle on one of the doors. "Any guesses?"

The huntsman glanced around the immediate area. Nothing particularly stood out -- his present company excepted of course -- until his eyes settled on a silver plaque above the door. Engraved in gold were the words  _ 'Nicholas Schnee Memorial Auditorium'. _

"A show?" Qrow asked.

"In a sense." Clover pulled the door open and stood to the side, ushering Qrow in. 

Stepping through the door, Qrow's eyes widened. He stood at the back of a huge, empty auditorium, staring down at curved rows of seating. The seats were covered in a royal blue fabric, looking appropriately expensive for the Atlesian elite. Past the front row seats and grey carpeted floor stood the stage, twin lines of glowing blue lights bracketing the front. The stage itself was a glossy black with the Atlesian emblem emblazoned on top in a stark white. From his elevated position, Qrow could see the only other object of note in the room. Sitting in the middle of the stage was a grand piano.

Qrow's heart skipped a beat as memories came flooding back to him. Did Clover know? No, he couldn't. Hardly anyone outside his team and a few old teachers at Beacon knew. And Clover had been worried that Qrow would find this boring.

As he heard the door shut behind him, Qrow pulled his jumbled thoughts together and turned to look at Clover. "You play?"

"Yeah," Clover responded, and Qrow couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He would have never guessed that they’d share this hobby. Qrow couldn’t believe his luck.

Clover pushed one hand into his jeans pocket and settled the other at the base of his neck as he continued, "This is where I come if I really need to unwind and training isn't doing it for me. The theatre manager is an old friend, he doesn't mind if I play when it's open. And it's not often that the space is free, but with the election on, there aren't any public shows tonight."

Qrow smirked. "So I get the pleasure of a private show?"

It was dark at the back of the auditorium so it was a little tricky to discern, but Qrow thought he saw a faint blush rising on Clover's cheeks. "If you'd like that."

"Yep," Qrow responded instantly. He gave Clover a quick clap on the shoulder then started down the stairs leading to the floor. Genuine excitement was bubbling in his chest, encouraged by the warm laughter from the man coming down the stairs behind him. 

A thousand questions rocketed around his mind. How long had Clover been playing? Where did he learn? Did he play for other people often, or was this special? Qrow unconsciously flexed his fingers. It had been a while, but he had been able to practice a bit at Haven. Leo had given Qrow access to the academy piano, before everything there went to hell. Should he try? Did he want to try in front of Clover?

That idea made a kernel of emotion spark in his chest, an unfamiliar mix of anxiety and anticipation. He had a million questions he wanted to ask Clover, but he pushed down his bubbling emotions to focus on the present. While he wanted to find out how deep the similarities in their hobby ran, and determine if he’d be brave enough to play himself, his eagerness to hear Clover perform settled at the front of his mind.

Reaching the stage, Qrow pushed himself up onto the ledge and turned around. He tilted at the hips and held out a waiting hand for Clover. His partner’s gentle smile broke into a huge grin and he chuckled. "Why thank you," he said, grasping Qrow's hand. Qrow pulled up at the same time that Clover pushed off the side of the stage with one boot, and he quickly gained a foothold on the top. 

Neither of them let go immediately. Clover wasn't wearing his gloves; the pleasant warmth from his hand seeped into Qrow's own. Clover smiled and continued to hold Qrow's hand as he began to walk towards the piano. 

"How long have you been playing?" Qrow asked, falling into an easy stride alongside his partner.

"Since I joined the Academy. It's always been my way to get away from the rest of the world. Sometimes you just need that escape, you know?" They had reached the piano, and Clover let go of Qrow's hand. The lingering warmth made his fingers tingle. 

"I do," Qrow said with a sigh. Clover had been playing about as long as he had, then. Watching the other man rotate the top board back and lay it across the lid, he remembered the simple joy that came with working on a new piece. Though he hadn’t had many audiences recently, he fondly remembered the times when he would play for his friends. He waited until Clover had pushed the lid up and set the prop in place, then asked, "Do you play in front of others often, then?"

"I used to more, when I was still learning in the Academy." He slid his jacket off his shoulders and arms, folded it, and placed it on the ground next to the piano. As he slipped his fingers under the fallboard and lifted it, exposing the pearly white and ebony black keys, he said, "But recently, it's just been me." 

Qrow felt a subtle tightening in his stomach as he let the words sunk in. This was special, then. "Just you?"

Clover let out an affirmative hum while pulling the stool out. "I've been so busy lately I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice." His gaze settled on Qrow, and he tilted his head slightly and gave him that little lopsided grin Qrow was becoming so fond of. "But I hope you'll still enjoy this."

Qrow walked up to the side of the piano while Clover sat and adjusted his seat. "I can't wait," he murmured, and he delighted at the way Clover's eyes lit up. "Can I stay here? Or would you rather me not be in your line of sight?"

"Oh!" Clover seemed surprised, "No that's fine, you can stay right there. But thanks for asking." He smiled at Qrow once more before looking down at the keys. Qrow watched him take one deep, even breath. He settled his hands on the keys. Closed his eyes for a moment. Then began to play.

Beautiful music filled the hall, the clear and pure sounds of piano notes reverberating through the space. The song began with a series of flowing triads that eventually transitioned to arpeggios held up a smooth line of melody. Qrow let out a quiet sigh; it had been a while since he listened to something like this. He closed his eyes, let himself get lost in the music. The song felt like flowing water, like a river twisting and turning and descending down.

A bold transitional element tugged Qrow's thoughts back to the present. He opened his eyes and observed the man playing for him. Clover's eyes were focused downward as his hands danced across the keys. Qrow recognized the attention in Clover's expression. It was similar to the focus he had in combat, but directed towards something so different. His hand flew to the far side of the keyboard and pulled back up in a grand arpeggio, and once more. 

The song then transitioned to a softer cadence once again, and Qrow found himself remembering his days at Beacon. Learning, studying, rehearsing, and practicing, always practicing. It was a passion he was thankful for discovering. And now he knew it was a passion Clover also shared. The thought spurred a mix of nervous and excited feelings within Qrow. 

After a reprise of the opening phrases, Clover began shifting to higher and higher keys. The melody turned softer, but the harmony from the notes Clover played built and built, the reverberation echoing around the room. Clover let the sound hang in the air as he played the last few treble triads with his right hand, then finally the last notes of the piece with his left. The peaceful, melodious sound gradually tapered off, much like the breath Qrow let out that he hadn't realized he'd be holding. 

Clover let his fingers slide off the finishing keys before glancing up at Qrow. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow in question, his demeanour outwardly confident, but Qrow could see a glint of nervousness in his eyes. 

So he didn’t hesitate. "That was stunning, Clover," he said warmly. "That was concert worthy. And you said you're out of practice?"

Clover's expression was practically glowing, and there was no hiding the color blooming in his cheeks. "Technically, yes. Thank you, Qrow." He smoothed his hands over the keys in front of him before quietly asking, "Would you like to hear another?"

Gathering up what confidence he had and holding onto it for dear life, Qrow stepped past the edge of the piano and into the space between the bench and the keys. In a low tone, he said, "I would, but maybe...." He leaned into Clover's space and settled one hand on the keys, his thumb grazing the side of the other man’s hand. Clover swallowed, eyes locked on Qrow's own. Qrow finished, "I could give it a shot first?"

Clover's eyebrows shot up at once and Qrow heard a sharp intake of breath. "Wait, you mean you-" He faltered for a moment, then smiled. In a smooth motion he stood up, suddenly at eye level with Qrow and much closer. As his hands left the keys, he almost whispered, "Where would you like me to stand?"

He usually didn't like playing in front of other people; his team and the girls were an exception. But this felt so different. "In front is fine." 

As he sat down, Clover stepped back and circled around behind Qrow, coming to stand in Qrow's previous position. "I'll have some questions for you after this," he murmured.

"That's fine," Qrow said, shifting in the seat. He pushed it back a few inches -- getting in the right position on the piano was always a battle between accommodating his legs and still being able to reach the keys. "Now I'm  _ actually _ out of practice. It's been a few months, so I don't think I'll be playing this at speed."

"Don't worry about that." Clover rested an elbow on the edge of the piano and leaned his hand into his palm. "I'm interested in whatever you have to play."

Maybe letting Clover be within his field of view was a mistake. Qrow's eyes shot down to the keys. Okay, he had to focus. There was a slower song he had managed to practice a few months ago in Haven, the last time he had access to a piano. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore his slightly accelerated heart beat, taking a few deep breaths.

Qrow pressed down on the first set of chords, letting the sound hang in the air before moving to the next group. A repetition of the same set of chords, and then he moved into the main line of melody. The first trill -- one of many in the piece -- was a bit shaky. But soon enough, Qrow felt himself settling into the flow of the music.

The entire experience was bringing back a lot of memories, but this piece in particular reminded him of his early days at Beacon. It was a mainstay in his repertoire, one of the earliest complex pieces he had ever learned. He remembered the first time he played it for Summer. She had called it "brilliantly moody", and said that it fit him perfectly.

He had to admit, it did have a soft, haunting quality to it, at least until it hit the transition to an airy, dreamy section with a stronger melody. As he played the last few notes of the central sequence and moved back to the original theme, he spared a glance up at Clover. The other man smirked, which, combined with what looked like awe in his teal eyes, made him look both playful and tender. The thought that he was the cause of such an expression made him nearly miss a note, so he quickly looked back down. 

The final trill went much more smoothly than the first, though he had to take his time on the rapid runs of notes near the end of the piece. The final set of notes had his hands diverging, walking to the high and low ends of the piano, giving the finale a contrasting feeling of lightness and heaviness. He had always liked that about this piece. Qrow let the final notes hang for an extra few seconds before letting his fingers slide off the keys and releasing the pedal. 

A held breath rushed out of him. After weeks on the road, his technique certainly felt rusty. He hadn't been able to play it quite at speed, and those quick runs of notes were always a weak point for h-

"Qrow." 

He snapped his gaze up to Clover. Clover, who still had his chin resting in his hand, head tilted, and would have almost looked like he was daydreaming if not for the intensity in his eyes. "That was gorgeous."

Qrow felt an intense blush rise on his face, far too quickly to try and obscure it by looking away. "I, uh," he stammered, "it's been a while. But...thanks."

Clover moved around the side of the piano and leaned into Qrow's space, mirroring his earlier movement. Qrow smirked; that had been a good move. Clover spoke again, "I'd love to spend the rest of the evening like this, if that's alright with you?"

"That sounds great," he replied. He stood and moved away from the stool, choosing to lean against the piano on the bass side this time. "I'm glad I surprised you, at least a little bit."

Clover laughed at that, the sound as pleasant as the melodies they had played. "You did!" he exclaimed. While he shifted the stool, he continued, "Though it was a very nice surprise. Where did you learn?"

"Beacon," Qrow answered. "I used to sneak into the concert hall, play utter nonsense, try to sound out old songs from when I was kid. Until my team partner caught me sneaking out of the dorms one night." He hesitated, old hurts weighing down his words, but he pushed on. "Summer played the violin, had been learning since she was little. She convinced me to actually enrol in lessons. Said it was good for me to have a hobby, but," he chuckled, shaking his head, "I think it was all a long con to badger me into being her accompanist."

Clover smiled at that. "Well, since I'm fortunate enough to enjoy the result of all your hard work, I'm glad she badgered you." Before Qrow could even begin to sputter at the compliment, Clover glanced at him, eyes shining playfully, and asked, "Ready for something a little different?"

Qrow knew he was grinning from ear to ear, and didn't care to stop. "Sure. I'm feeling adventurous."

"Excellent."

Clover rattled out a rapid staccato of deep notes before his hands flew up the keys and he settled into the languid melody of a charming jazz piece. 

Qrow sucked in a short breath. Clover's demeanour had changed entirely. His partner had played the previous piece with a soft deliberateness, but now his fingers danced across the board with a loose, casual flair. Qrow stood mesmerized as he listened to a transforming tempo, one that sped up and slowed down unpredictably. A clear theme ran throughout the piece, but it leapt to and from energetic phrases with almost wild abandon. It would swell with sweeping intensity before quieting down to almost a whisper.

Qrow had no idea how long he stared at Clover's hands, letting the alluring mood of the piece wash over him. He was trying to find a handful of words to describe it, and was failing. The notes had settled into soft wistfulness when he noticed motion in the corner of his vision. He glanced up and locked eyes with Clover. His breath caught in his throat. A soft gaze, an easy grin, and then a knowing wink, before Clover looked down again and went into a rocketing series of staccato notes.

He felt the heat on his face and his heart hammering. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. That had been a statement. Clover knew what he was doing. And Qrow supposed audaciously romantic would be a great way to describe this piece.

_ Alright, _ he thought,  _ two can play at this game. _

After a glissando from one end of the keyboard to the other and a final, tremendously challenging section, Clover repeated the opening motif one last time. After hammering the final notes home, he let his hands over in the air for a moment, before running one through his hair and he leaned back and looked at Qrow. 

A weighted moment passed. The echoing sound of the last notes faded away. Clover tilted his head, a questioning but playful look on his face.

"I uh-," Qrow started, then coughed. Damn it. "That was. Uh. Wow?"

Clover laughed brightly as he stood. "That was what I was hoping for." A sly grin graced his features. "Think you can match that?"

The challenge made Qrow smirk. Alright then. He gathered his nerves and walked towards the bench. Clover moved to settle into a comfortable position at the side of the piano. One eyebrow was raised in curiosity, his gaze focused on Qrow. 

Qrow paused after adjusting the stool. A twinge of anxiety crept into his mind. This was a tough one. He kept his eyes on the keys and he quietly said, "Haven't played this one in a while. Might not live up to..."

He trailed off as Clover's hand entered his field of view and gently grasped his own where it rested on the keys. "You don't have to explain any mistakes, Qrow, we all make them. I made half a dozen mistakes in that last piece." 

Qrow hadn't noticed. He only heard a stunning piece of music, could only focus on Clover's hands dancing across the keys. 

Clover gave Qrow’s hand a little squeeze, and continued, "I know I'm going to enjoy whatever you show me." His hand slid away slowly, the warmth lingering. 

Clover's words had made Qrow feel better, they really had, but dragging his attention back to the piano was a herculean task. He smiled, whispered a "Thank you," then closed his eyes. The feelings stirring in his chest had taken on a softer tone after Clover's kind words, but Qrow still keenly felt the impulse to show off. To impress Clover. He placed his hands on the keys, close together on the bass side of the piano.

This piece...this piece reminded him of wielding Harbinger. And so his mind settled into the kind of focus he held in combat.

He began, his left hand staying in place and hitting a set of alternating keys, while his right soared up the board. He reached the end of the run of notes and pulled his hand back to start again - over and over, the colour of the phrase changing with each repetition. 

It was a ferocious opening, and that feeling held for the entire piece. Filled with lightning fast arpeggios and a stormy line of melody, it held the sense of controlled chaos that Qrow found so familiar. 

He stumbled a few times, but thankfully kept most of the piece flowing smoothly. The final phrase was a series of complicated broken chord progressions that sounded like a harmonic whirlwind, which built to the simple yet dramatic set of ending chords. 

Qrow barely had time to let out his held breath before Clover surged toward the bench and pulled him into a lopsided hug. He was laughing, and after a moment of bewilderment, Qrow joined him with a giddy excitement. He was so excited about this, about playing for Clover, about showing off his skills, about everything _ , _ he could hardly contain it. How long had it been since he felt like this? Since he had smiled this much? Since he had  _ laughed? _

"Qrow," Clover started, giving him a tight squeeze, "Qrow that was amazing." He leaned back, though he kept his hands on Qrow's shoulders. His broad smile was positively heart-stopping. "You're amazing. That was so dramatic." He winked, and Qrow wondered if that would ever  _ not _ make his stomach do flips. "It was very  _ you." _

Another laugh bubbled up out of him at that. "Thank you, Clover."

"Can we keep doing this?"

"Uh, yeah of course." Qrow fished his scroll out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Robyn's lead had tightened again, but it was still a lead. "Still have a couple hours before the polls close."

"No, I mean...do this again." Clover kept speaking as Qrow looked up at him. "In the future. I've always come here alone, and I never realized how much fun it would be to have someone else who loves to play join me. We can teach each other all the pieces we don't know. If that would be ok with you?" he asked, his tone questioning but his expression hopeful.

A familiar pang of worry crept up, the words  _ burdensome  _ and  _ risky _ and  _ misfortune _ rattling around his mind. But one look at Clover's earnest smile and gorgeous eyes had those words drifting away. "Yeah," Qrow replied. "I'd like that." And at the way his partner's expression brightened, impossibly, even more, Qrow realized he was really in trouble. He had it bad.

He stood up, Clover's hands sliding off his shoulder. "But for now," Qrow drawled, stepping away from the bench. "Impress me again?"

They quickly lost track of time. Qrow and Clover traded the bench back and forth, over and over, exchanging song after song, chatting about their musical histories inbetween. Qrow’s residual nerves over performing in front of someone else faded into nonexistence; playing for Clover felt like playing for himself, for the part of himself that just fell into the music. Their respective repertoires contrasted nicely; Qrow's penchant for brooding and dramatic compositions complimented the less structured, airy, romantic ambience of Clover's favoured pieces.

It reminded him so much of when he was younger, when things were simpler, when he and his best friend would perform together. Some of the pieces he played for Clover were ones on which he had used to accompany Summer. He felt a familiar ache in his chest as he played those, one that had once been a vicious, tearing pain, but had since dulled to a faint but ever-present hurt. But the way Clover smiled and complimented his performances helped soothe those feelings. Qrow didn't feel like he was navigating some delicate balance between the excitement of sharing a passion with Clover and the sorrow of the past. Some sadness was present, but it never overwhelmed him. Besides, he knew Summer would have browbeaten him for dwelling on the past when he really should be focusing on impressing his distractingly handsome partner on this not-technically-a-date.

Fortunately, focusing on Clover was remarkably easy; he lavished Qrow with compliments after every piece. Qrow took them in stride, or as much as he could. A month ago he would have felt like dissolving under Clover's praises, but now he could manage to avoid deflecting them. The winks and glancing touches continued to stir feelings in his chest, and Qrow had also stopped pushing those away.

It was obvious Clover was flirting with him, and Qrow finally felt confident enough to flirt back. Their mutual attraction was so obvious it honestly felt comfortable to Qrow. He knew Clover liked him, and he knew he liked Clover. They had talked about it. Qrow had let his feelings out for once, and for the first time in years had actually asked someone for something. He had asked Clover to wait. To wait until Qrow knew he was steady enough to give a relationship the care it needed. To give Clover something he deserved. 

And Clover had said yes. So instead of their musical flirtations building tension like a line about to snap, the air had a gentle feeling as they traded places at the piano. A gentle push and pull, both of them exploring but neither going too far. Qrow felt a slow, inevitable drift towards Clover, and he wasn't afraid of it. It felt strange, but in a wonderful kind of way.

Qrow knew he was falling, he just hadn't realized falling could feel like this.

Clover was just finishing up a song; its gentle, emotional melody cautiously romantic. A lot of the pieces Clover played for Qrow had felt like that. Clover finished the final delicate phrase with an artful flourish.

"Beautiful," Qrow whispered.

"I'm glad you liked that,” Clover said, a humble smile across his face. He checked his scroll, and said, “Polls will close soon, and we might need to be on hand." He glanced up at Qrow. "But I think we have time for one more." 

Qrow's smile came easily. "Well I had an idea for one more, though I've only ever gotten the first half down pat -- I've never quite memorized some of the chords in the second half. It was a favourite of Summer's, actually," he said, smiling at the memory. "She would play the melody in the second half. But it reminds me a lot of you-your playing." He cleared his throat and ignored the pointedly satisfied look Clover was giving him. "The pieces you've been playing, that is. If you'd be ok with a shorter song?"

"That sounds lovely, Qrow." Clover stood and yielded the bench to him. "Take it away."

Qrow settled into the seat, straightening his posture. He already felt so much more comfortable than he had during his first piece of the night. The thought of how much of an effect Clover had on him was both surprising and heartwarming. He held onto that thought, and then began playing.

When he had first learned this piece, Qrow had been told that the spaces between the notes were as important as the notes themselves. That the open and empty spaces between the sound was where the heart of this song was found. So he allowed the silence between the light, airy chords of the piece to linger. Gradually, the musical phrases built, with chords that at times sounded dissonant gathering to build the overall dream-like mood of the piece. 

Reaching the end of the first section with a series of very high notes, he then paused. Beyond here, he was used to playing with another person. He glanced up to his right, where Clover had been leaning against the piano, and was about to explain, but his breath caught in his throat. Clover had gotten much closer - his knee was brushing the edge of the bench - and he was looking down at Qrow with a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"I know this," Clover said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know the left hand well?"

Qrow nodded, unable to speak, and kept staring into Clover's eyes.

"I can play the melody chords. With you. If you could do the arpeggios..." He sounded uncertain, but ardently hopeful. "If that's alright with you."

It would be strange with just a piano, not hearing Summer's beautiful interpretation on violin. But he knew deep down that if she were still here, his best friend would have fumed if he passed this up. 

"It is," Qrow replied, and moved on the bench, shifting his left leg off to the side. Clover sat next to him, tucking his left leg under the stool to make as much room as possible for Qrow to use the pedals. But piano benches weren't designed for two people. Qrow tried to ignore the brush of Clover's shoulder, the press of his thigh, the warmth radiating from him. 

"This ok?" Clover asked again.

"Yeah." His throat felt dry, his heart rate had kicked up. Focusing on the piece was going to be a challenge. But Qrow had never backed down from a challenge.

Clover's right hand rested across a set of keys in the treble range, and Qrow put his own hands back to their previous position.

The second section of the piece was filled with rolling arpeggios punctuated by bright chords. With both hands available, the flowing notes came easily to Qrow. And Clover filled in the melody line with incredible precision. The first few chords were tentative, but soon they were perfectly in sync. 

As the music built, Clover handled some of the larger chords with both hands. Their hands brushed several times, but they never faltered. Qrow was at once intensely aware of how close Clover was and totally engrossed in the music. 

The notes near the end of the section flowed like a tumbling waterfall, then softly faded into the final movement. It was a reflection of the beginning, but with a more complex, arpeggiated left hand, giving the melody a more confident mood.

The melody crept higher and higher up the board, and Qrow leaned more and more into Clover's space. The other man moved his left arm back to give Qrow more room, and after a moment of hesitation, Qrow felt Clover's arm slide lightly around the small of his back and rest at his waist. His heart skipped a beat at the gesture, and he smiled wide enough that he knew Clover would notice.

Eventually he was playing most of the notes, with Clover supplementing a few of the high notes with his right hand. The ending phrase had Qrow's hands moving all the way up the keys. He leaned more, and Clover kept his arm around him. With the final cadence -- light and satisfying, tying the whole piece together -- his hand was extended over top of Clover's hand.

The final notes faded into the air. Neither of them moved, Qrow still leaning into Clover's space, his pulse hammering. After a moment, he turned his head and looked at Clover. 

He looked so happy it took Qrow’s breath away. His soft smile reached his eyes, teal gleaming under the lights of the stage. His arm was still around Qrow's waist, but Clover made no move to pull Qrow in, or get closer. He simply gazed at Qrow, and waited. Qrow had been proficient at reading the deeper emotions behind guarded expressions for years, and in the slight arch of Clover's eyebrows and relaxed jet of his saw, Qrow saw anticipation, patience, and longing.

Longing that Qrow also felt. He told himself he should wait. That he should be sure about his progress, be sure that he was steady. Clover deserved a steady presence in his life, not something volatile.

But he was getting better. He felt better than he had in years. The girls believed in him. Clover believed in him. Maybe he could let that be enough. Maybe, as he was right now, he was enough. 

On the keys, he interlocked his finger's with Clover's own. Qrow barely noticed the hitch in Clover's breath, but he definitely noticed the way Clover's gaze flicked down to his lips then back up to his eyes. It emboldened him. He moved his other hand to settle on Clover’s broad shoulder, and felt the hand on his waist slide ever so slightly upwards. Qrow prayed he wasn't reading this wrong, and slowly leaned in. His eyes fluttered closed, and Qrow could just feel Clover’s breath on his lips--

A shrill alarm shattered the moment of anticipation. Qrow gasped and pulled back as Clover started. It was the emergency tone for their scrolls.

Clover swore under his breath while pulling his hand out from under Qrow's. "Damnit, I-I'm sorry, Qrow. I'm really sorry. What the hell is..." He pulled his scroll out, blinking down at the alerts on the screen. 

Ignoring the slight tremble in his voice, Qrow tried to assuage Clover’s worry, "Don't apologize, it's not your fau-" but came up short as his own scroll started ringing. "What..."

He pulled it out. The first thing he noticed was that Ruby was calling him. The second was his pinned notification was showing that the election was over, and Jacques Schnee had won.

Qrow stood up, pulling away from Clover, and he answered Ruby's call. "Ruby? What's going on?"

"Uncle Qrow? I- where are you? Are you in Mantle?" Her voice was trembling. Qrow's heart dropped into his stomach.

"No, I'm in Atlas. Ruby are you alright? What's wrong?"

"I..I'm alright." Ruby took a deep breath. "I'm fine. We were at Robyn's election party, everything was going fine. But just before it got called, I saw him in the crowd, before the lights went out and...Tyrian was here."

Qrow's blood turned to ice in his veins. He felt a phantom pain across his ribs. Memories of a feverish nightmare swept over him.

"He hurt a lot of people, and they think it was Penny who did it, but it wasn't! And there are definitely Grimm on the way..." she trailed off.

He shook his head, forcing his mind to return to the present. Ruby needed him. "Are you with anyone else?"

"Yeah, Marrow is still here, and Nora and Ren."

"Ok, you all stick together. I'm coming as quickly as possible. Call your sister and the others. You're all going to be alright, I promise."

He heard a little sigh of relief on the other end, before Ruby replied, "Alright, I'll call Yang. Thank you, Uncle Qrow."

The call ended. He turned around. The piano lid was back down, and Clover was shrugging his leather jacket on, one arm at a time as he furiously typed into his scroll. His brow's were pinched with worry. "Multiple reports of fatalities at Robyn's election event, and the outer patrol has spotted a Grimm swarm headed towards the city." He looked up at Qrow. "Is your niece ok?"

"She is," Qrow said, and began walking towards the edge of the stage. "So are the other kids, and Marrow." 

Some of the tension left Clover's shoulders. "Good. Can you grab your weapon and meet me in hangar bay two? We'll go with the rest of the Ace Ops, it'll be the fastest way down."

"That works, thanks."

Clover jumped down to the auditorium floor, matching Qrow's strides up the stairs. "Hopefully we can catch whoever did this quickly...."

Qrow's throat tightened at that. Don't think about it. Focus on helping Ruby.

"Qrow?"

He looked up at Clover. "Yeah?"

"Are you ok?" Clover reached a hand out and gently touched Qrow's arm. 

"I...I'm fine. Ruby saw the attacker, and we've fought him before. I'll explain the rest later. But I'm fine." He was lying through his teeth, but this was too complicated to explain to Clover right now. 

"Okay," Clover nodded. He pushed open the doors of the auditorium. The Ace Ops’ rooms and Qrow's dorm were in opposite directions. "I'll meet you in the hangar." As Qrow nodded and turned away, Clover spoke again. "And Qrow?" 

Qrow paused and looked back. Clover's expression was apologetic.

"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

The tangle of new emotions Qrow had been unraveling pushed past the old fears in his mind. He smirked. "I'll hold you to that. Next time."

"Next time."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed <3! I plan on writing a sequel to this!
> 
> First of all, a huge thank you to my amazing beta readers, [thedarkpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkpoet/) and [alphaparrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphaparrot). In addition to their excellent editing suggestions, they came up with the idea of Qrow and Clover playing music for each other! 
> 
> Almost all of the pieces in the final playlist were suggestions made by members of the FG fanworks server I mod, Fair Game Effect! This community really means a lot to me, and I’m privileged to interact with so many incredibly skilled and talented artists! Specific shout outs to [Amber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Aglio), [Farley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afoolforatook), [pretentiouskneecap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentiouskneecap), and [Agent 24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_24) for *excellent* musical suggestions. All of these people also write fics that are all INCREDIBLE, and you should also check them out!


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